“Gosh only knows, Ike. Somebody sure shot straight. Here comes Hartley and his pardner.”
Hashknife and Sleepy were coming from the hotel, heading for the restaurant. Ike and the sheriff met them just as Baldy and Baum came from the saloon. Baldy scowled at Ike and got one in return, while Hashknife shook hands all around.
“I’d kinda like to see where yuh found Sam Blair,” said Baldy.
“Right away,” agreed Hashknife. “Me and Sleepy was goin’ to start for the Tumblin’ H, so we’ll all ride out to the spot.”
It did not take them long to ride to where Hashknife and Sleepy had planted the signs of conflict, and Baldy was the one to find the knife. He looked it over carefully and handed it to the sheriff.
“Some toad-sticker,” admitted the sheriff, testing the point with his thumb, as he scrutinized the ground carefully.
Baldy and Jack Baum exchanged knowing glances. That Torres had killed Sam Blair was a certainty now. They had seen Torres with that knife.
But search as they might, they could not find Blair’s gun.
“Hell, the murderer took it,” declared Baum. “He lost his knife, but took the gun. We’ll get him, y’betcha.”
Satisfied that they could find nothing more, Baldy, Baum, and the sheriff rode back toward town, while Hashknife, Sleepy, and Ike went on to the Tumbling H, where Big Medicine sat on the rickety porch and waited for the news.